


I've hurt myself (by hurting you)

by wordsinpaper



Series: 30 Day Writing Challenge [8]
Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Spoilers for 1x07, and oliver, connor might come off ooc in this, it's exaggerated and a bit too dramatic, mentions of spatula guy, there's also a cat - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-08
Updated: 2014-11-08
Packaged: 2018-02-24 15:47:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2587058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordsinpaper/pseuds/wordsinpaper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor Walsh drunkenly stumbling into his apartment, singing Christina Aguilera’s “Hurt”.</p>
<p>That's it. It's dramatic and exaggerated, but that's what it comes down to, really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I've hurt myself (by hurting you)

**Author's Note:**

> What the summary says. I tweaked it a bit at the end so it would fit with today's prompt "companion". I took a loose definition, I suppose, but, hey, they're one-word prompts, they're more than open to interpretation. Also, I intended for this to be slightly cracky and fun, but instead I tripped over my feelings and sad stuff came out. So if it looks weird and if you find Connor to be OOC in this, that's why. I regret nothing and I own all the mistakes you may find.

He shouldn’t have gotten back in his car. But it’s okay. He’s gotten home safe. He’s here now.

Just as he was turning off the car, this song came on the radio. He hadn’t heard it in years and now that damned thing is stuck in his head.

He locks his car, muttering under his breath. “Seems like it was yesterday when I saw your face…”

He doesn’t remember all the words, but the melody is playing in his head, and he’s drunk, and heartbroken, so who cares?

He stops and turns to look at the bouquet forgotten on the passenger seat.

With a few stumbling steps, he reaches his car again, leaning heavily against it.

His fingers slowly trace the faintly hazy image of those flowers.

“If only I knew what I know today... Oooooh oooooooh.”

Gravity pulls one on him – or should he say on his drunk legs – and he slides down the car’s side, until he’s sitting on the cold sidewalk. He looks for his keys, but the only thing in his pocket is his phone. He lets out a sound that’s a cross between a humorless laugh and a sob.

"There's nothing I wouldn't do to hear your voice again. Sometimes I wanna call you but I know you won't be theeeeeeere," he continues, patting the ground beside him, until his fingers close around his keys.

Good. He can go home now. He just needs to stop being a baby and get on his feet.

He gets on his knees, hands supported against the car to help him up.

Part of him is glad no one else is here to see him like this. Another part of him laments there’s no one to witness that this is real, because he’s afraid people might actually think him heartless. The irony is that his heart shattered because he let his walls down unknowingly, made himself vulnerable for the blow.

And, hey, he gets it. He knows he’s made this bed, so now he’s gonna be a big boy and lie in it. That doesn’t mean it will be any less hurtful.

“Ooooooh, I'm sorry for cheating on you and for everything else I just couldn't dooooooo.”

He can feel his throat closing on him with all the emotions he’s shoving down and keeping inside.

He manages to unlock the building’s main door and barely stops himself from falling to the floor as soon as he steps in.

“Some days I feel broke inside but I won't admit. Sometimes I just wanna hide 'cause it's you I miss… And it's so hard to say goodbye when it comes to this, ooooooh,” he whispers, eyes tearing up.

His fingers dance against the cold walls leading him to his door, only stuttering when he loses balance for a moment or two before continuing.

The lock of his door is a struggle, and he’s so done by this point, that all he wants to do is curl up on the floor and cry, and just wait for the new day to begin. With one last frustrating attempt to fit the key in the lock, he kicks the door when he fails again and drops to the floor in a chaos of emotion.

“There's nothing I wouldn't do to have just one more chance, to look into your eyes and see you looking baaaaaaaaack,” he sings in a broken voice. From his place on the floor, he looks at his traitorous keys on the floor and holds his knees close.

The door across from his opens, but he’s too far gone to notice it yet.

“If I had just one more daaaaaay, I would tell you how much that I've missed you since you've been awaaaaaay,” and at that, the dam breaks and he’s sobbing on the floor, head buried in his arms.

That’s when he hears soft steps making their way towards him.

“Oh, sweetie,” he hears the concerned voice of his neighbor. “What happened to you?”

“He’s gone,” he sobs. “I screwed up and now he’s gone. He’s gone, he’s gone…”

There are arms wrapping around him. He loosens up the tight ball he’s become and lets himself be hugged.

“Oh, Connor, it’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.”

“He’s gone, Emily.”

She pets his head and back, still holding him close.

“Shh, don’t think about that now, okay? You’ll fix this, I’m sure.”

He lets out a chuckle and shakes his head against her chest.

“I tried. He has someone else now. I screwed up. I miss him. I miss him so much and I just wanted to make it all better but when I got there…”

“Okay, sweetie, you don’t need to say anything else. Let’s get you inside, okay?” she pulls back and helps him get to his feet. She leaves him leaning against the wall, crouches down to pick up his keys and unlocks and opens the door for him.

She walks with him inside and helps him take off his coat and shoes.

“Is there anything I can do for you, anything at all?”

He falls on the bed, turning on his side to face her.

“Can you turn back time? Prevent me from messing this up?”

Her face falls, a sad look in his eyes. And he knows. It’s stupid and selfish. She can’t do it, and even if she could, she shouldn’t do it for him either. Because he got himself in this mess, right? He deserves to deal with the consequences.

“You’ll be okay, Connor. Give it time and it’ll fade away.”

He isn’t so sure about that, but then again he’s drunk and she’s sober, so maybe she knew better.

“I will be right next door if you need me, okay?”

“I’m sorry I woke you up.”

She smiles and shakes her head. She steps closer and drops a kiss on his forehead, just like his mother used to do. He closes his eyes and thinks of better times.

He hears his front door close and soon after comes a soft meowing approaching the bed.

“Hey, you,” he says, affectionately scratching behind the cats’ ears.

“I’m not sure I’ll be the best company tonight, buddy.”

The cat jumps on the bed and curls up beside him.

Maybe it’s not so bad. He’s not completely alone. And maybe there’s still hope. He wants there to be hope, but he won’t give himself that reassurance. He just wants to see him, _talk_ to him. Fix it, even if Oliver ultimately decides he’s better off with the other dude.

He’ll respect that. And accept it. Eventually.

His hand rubs small circles in the furry coat of his cuddly friend. He reaches up to turn off the lights and murmurs in the dark room, “And I’ve hurt myself by hurting you.”


End file.
